


Spirals

by VividEscapist



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: (on the lighter side for the romance), F/M, Family, Ficathon, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hug Henry Morgan Day, M/M, Nostalgia, Romance, Sunflowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VividEscapist/pseuds/VividEscapist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spiral<br/>[spahy-ruh l]<br/>1. a spiral curve, shape, or pattern; occurs naturally in sunflowers<br/>2. running continuously around a fixed point or center while constantly receding from or approaching it</p><p>Henry has been alive for so long, it feels like the word revolves and changes around him. He's lost a lot, but happiness is never very far away. Neither are sunflowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirals

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't remember, Anne Peyton is Henry's love interest from the 1865 flashbacks in Social Engineering. I always felt like she didn't get enough of a story.

By the time Abigail arrived, Abraham was completely saturated in damp mulch, from his toes to his elbows. Henry was fairly certain he felt some behind his ear, which may or may not have been a result of the dirt war one of them had started. There was still half a bag of seeds left.

“What exactly are you two doing?”

Henry rose to his feet, smiling sheepishly at Abigail. “It’s a bit of a long story…”

“Mommy, mommy, look!” Abraham held a handful of soil out to his mother, emanating enthusiasm that only a four-year-old with mulch could contrive.

To her credit, Abigail managed to look pleased at the mess. “That’s nice, Abraham.” She turned to Henry. “Well?”

“I’m planting sunflowers with my son. _Sun_ flowers.”

“Oh, very funny.” Abigail glanced downwards. “Abe, sweetie, I think that will grow better if you leave it on the ground.”

Abraham nodded, dropping the sampling of mulch next to his feet.

“Hey, sunflowers were his idea. I was planning on tulips.” Henry knelt to shove the discarded mulch over with a trowel, intent on keeping at least half of it within the garden plot. The white stones of the courtyard were steadily becoming stained brown.

“Sunflowers are the best because they’ll be really tall. Daddy said even taller than me.” Abraham looked at Henry for confirmation.

“They could be. If you water them enough and don’t gain more interest in eating vegetables."

“Oh, Henry, don’t encourage him.” Abigail smiled, amused. “When we moved to an apartment building with a courtyard, I didn’t think it was because you wanted to cultivate the garden yourself.”

Henry shrugged. He wasn’t much of a gardener, but a few flowers had sounded nice. Abraham hadn’t made friends in the building yet, and it was something for them to do while Henry had the day off. When Abraham had eagerly pointed at the sunflower seeds—packet decorated in brilliant gold and brown—it rekindled memories.

Most things held a memory or two for Henry at this point, but sunflowers particularly.

“Alright, Abraham,” Abigail said. “Finish up with those seeds because you are definitely getting a bath before supper.”

Abraham brushed his hands on his knees. His eyes flickered over to Henry. “Daddy too?”

“Hm.” Abigail pressed a finger to her chin. “ I don’t know. What does he say?”

Abraham stared at Henry expectedly.

“Only if you can plant the rest of these seeds faster than me.” Henry picked up the packet of sunflower seeds and poured half into Abraham’s outstretched hand. “One. Two. _Go!”_

\------------------------------

“Those are new.” Henry pointed to the flowers on the kitchen table. They were sitting in a pewter vase, pushed close to the window.

James followed Henry’s gaze, nodding. “Yesterday. A patient’s wife gave me the bouquet. Too generous for a simple dose of cough syrup, I think, but I couldn’t say ‘no.’ Definitely brightens up the room.”

Henry ran his fingers gently over the petals. The streaming sunlight was indeed complemented by the bouquet's golden hues, flower head glistening easily. It was impossible to deny the approaching summer with a sight like this.

Henry looked back at James. “It’s not the only thing.”

James cracked a wide smile, chuckling. “Careful there. Some men might consider that too forward.”

“Oh?” Henry asked innocently. He cocked his head. “And what do _you_ think?”

“That we’re going to be late if you don’t finish getting dressed some time this century.” James held up Henry’s tie—ready to toss it to him—then thought better of it. He walked across the room to stand in front of the other man.

“But this century has just begun! That’s plenty of time.”

“For you, maybe.” James looped the tie around Henry’s neck, fastening it carefully. “I’m on a bit tighter of a schedule.” James finished the knot, giving the tie one final tug. He smoothed his hand over the fabric.

“Are you sure we have to leave?” Henry glanced at the sunflowers. “It would be a shame to miss watching those in the sunset’s light.”

“Hm." James winked at him. "How’s sun _rise_ for you?”

Henry shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Yes. I suppose we could plan for that.”

“Come on, then.” James draped his arm over Henry’s shoulders, leading him forward. “Faster we go, the faster we’ll be back.”

\------------------------------

“Henry, these are beautiful!” Anne took her time basking in the sunflowers’ yellow glow before grinning back at him.

“Well, it took a great deal of time to find a bunch half as beautiful as you are, but these were almost sufficient.”

“Oh, shush, you.” Anne shoved him with one hand, but the grin didn’t vacate her face.

Rather than bother to regain his balance, Henry let himself fall onto his back against the picnic blanket, laughing. With his head resting just off the edge of the fabric, the fresh grass tickled his neck. It gave him an idea.

 _“Henry!"_ Anna giggled wildly. "You’re going to make me drop them! Sto—” Anne gave up her struggle at that point, rolling into Henry with the flowers clutched tightly to her chest.

Henry ceased his attack. “Don’t fret, my dear. Sunflowers are not made of glass, and they are more familiar with this ground than we are.”

“Well, they are too pretty to risk squashing.” Anne sighed fondly. “You are lucky that you share that in common.” She relaxed against Henry, lying on his chest with the flowers resting over top.

They both took to watching the horizon.

“The sun is setting now,” Henry said quietly. “We should be returning soon if we want to avoid tripping in the darkness.

Anne hummed. “Let’s just watch it, first. A little tripping won’t hurt. And look.” She gestured to the sky’s transitioning colors, then to the sunflowers. “They match.”

Henry smiled. “So they do.”

\------------------------------

“Slower, Henry. Just press one finger into the soil for the seed. See?” Anna demonstrated. “Mother will be angry if you return home with your whole hand colored black.”

 _“Anna,”_ Henry whined, before cutting off abruptly at his sister’s sharp look. She had kicked him the last time he’d complained. “I don’t see why we need to plant these anyway. Simon and Edward are playing marbles.”

“They won’t let you play with them; they never do.”

Henry scowled. “I could try.”

“This is better. These flowers are going to reach up to God when they get bigger.” Anna dropped another seed, covering the hole back up with the toe of her shoe.

 _“All_ flowers do that.”

Anna shook her head. “Not like this. Haven’t you ever seen a grown sunflower? If any flower could reach the heavens, they could."

Henry stared at the little grey seeds in his palm; they didn’t look like much. But Anna was three years older than him, and smarter. If she _said_ so...

“And they will be so beautiful! Their petals are like the golden arms of the sun, stretching out in a great circle.”

Henry smiled. Anna talked like that a lot. He tried to remember everything she said. “How fast will they grow?”

“Faster than you, I hope. We’ll be waiting forever.”

“Hey!” Henry stomped his foot. “You’re not that much taller!”

Anna ruffled Henry’s hair, indifferent to his returned scowl (less sincere this time). “Don’t kick up the dirt. You’ll upset the flowers.”

\------------------------------

“Henry, the murder’s this way.”

Henry made no attempt to budge from his current position. “What are the chances that we would have _another_ case in an art museum? I don’t suppose this one will end without a murderer as well.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could calculate the odds. You don’t have conflicting feelings about the Met too, do you?”

“Quite the opposite. Abe and I visit every so often.” He indicated the picture in front of them. “This one if my favorite.”

Jo glanced between Henry and the painting. “Sunflowers?”

Henry nodded. “Vincent van Gogh. He saw the underappreciated beauty in many things; sunflowers were no exception.”

“Let me guess: you knew van Gogh too?”

“Unfortunately not. You know he wasn’t famous in his time, and he died far too young. Almost the same age I would have been, if not for…” Henry trailed off.

They let the silence hang in the air.

Jo moved to stand closer to Henry. “Well, at least his legacy remains. His art is kind of like you.”

Henry turned to her, puzzled. “How so?”

“It still gives comfort, inspiration, and joy to people every day—over decades. Even so many years after van Gogh’s death.” Jo smiled. “Immortal.”

Henry chuckled. “At last. There is a fellow immortal that is not dangerously mad: sunflowers.”

“I hope you two are very happy together. Now, come on. Hanson’s going to start trying to solve the murder without you.”

Henry spared one last look at the painting before following Jo back to the crime scene.

 _Immortal._ Perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try to act like Henry wouldn't be the king of dad jokes. He's had so much time to practice.


End file.
